


Not This Time But Some Day Soon

by listerinezero



Series: the new timeline [1]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listerinezero/pseuds/listerinezero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after Wolverine's visit from the future, Charles finally tells Erik about his glimpse of their future selves.</p><p>  <a href="http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=122813&extra=page%3D2%26filter%3Dtypeid%26typeid%3D24%26typeid%3D24">Chinese translation by <b>Robbie_Girl</b></a><br/><a href="http://ficbook.net/readfic/2055782">Russian translation by <b>Forlex</b></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not This Time But Some Day Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to Robbie_Girl and Forlex for the translations!

In the past few years since Erik’s escape from prison, he’s visited eight times. Or maybe it’s been nine times now; Charles has stopped counting.

The first time Erik appeared at Charles’ window, hands palms-up at his sides as though he were meditating or doing some perverse form of angry yoga, he’d apparently showed up just to yell at Charles: about Washington and Mystique and the course of mutant history thus far and all the ways Charles had failed him since they’d met and anything else he could think of. Charles had yelled right back at him, of course, and then kicked him out of the house. It wasn’t until after Erik had gone that Charles realized that the bizarre undercurrent of the whole thing – which Charles had been too angry and too busy screaming to stop and analyze – was that Erik missed him. He missed fighting with Charles. At the end of the day when everything had gone right or everything had gone wrong, Erik still turned his head and expected Charles to be there to talk it over with. Erik had come to yell at Charles because Charles was the person he wanted on the other end of his yelling. Charles was disgusted about it for a week afterwards, but also slightly touched.

The second time, Erik had come to yell at Charles again, but this time with a purpose. He wanted to know why Charles hadn’t told him that Peter was his son. _Because this was the first time Charles was hearing about it!_ was the answer. The yelling faded quickly this time, as they discussed what Erik should do about his newly discovered son (and daughter!), and agreed that Logan was a right bastard for not mentioning it when they were using the kid to break his own father out of the Pentagon.

It wasn’t until the third time that they actually got around to having sex.

Now Erik is at Charles’ window again, for the eighth or ninth time. It’s not routine yet, but Charles is no longer surprised to see Erik floating outside, asking to be let in for a fight or a fuck or just a game of chess. Charles doesn’t bother locking his bedroom window anymore. Erik could open it either way, of course, but he considers leaving it unlocked a gesture of goodwill.

“Come in,” Charles calls over his shoulder from where he’s seated in his wheelchair on the opposite side of the room. He’s reading, though he couldn’t say what the book is about. He’s trying to distract himself from his nerves – the new semester begins in a week. He supposes he should feel more confident about the second semester, considering they survived the first, but his nerves never did listen to logic.

Erik climbs in the window and Charles is relieved to see that he’s dressed casually. Bell bottoms mean a friendly visit; a cape means trouble. “I’m not interrupting anything?” he asks.

“Not at all.”

Erik shuts the window behind him and finally turns to Charles. “You cut your hair,” he notices. “Finally.”

He has. It’s still fairly long by the standards of his childhood, but neat and trim, and compared to current fashions, short and conservative. “Yes, well, I have to look respectable. I’m in charge of an entire school, you know.”

“I do know.” Erik walks over and tentatively touches the shorn ends behind Charles’ ears. “You look like yourself again. Your old self, I mean.”

Charles chuckles. “My old self is bald as an egg! At least I’m not there yet.”

“What do you mean?” Erik asks with a frown. He doesn’t get the joke.

“I never told you, did I?” By the blank expression on Erik’s face, Charles can safely assume that’s a no. “I saw me. I saw us, actually.”

Erik sits at the edge of Charles’ bed. “What are you talking about?”

“When Logan was here,” Charles explains, “I was able to go into his mind in the future, his present. Or rather, I was able to go through his mind to our future, and I spoke to myself. My future self.”

Erik doesn’t entirely believe him, and he looks as though he’s barely holding back a sarcastic comment. “And what did your future self say?” he asks instead, with forced patience.

He takes a moment to decide how to answer. “He gave me some advice. Helped me to get back on the right track.”

Erik nods. “And he was bald.”

“Completely bald,” says Charles. “I saw you, too, actually.”

“You did?” That caught Erik’s attention. “Was I bald, too?”

“No, your hair was silvery gray, and you were very old. But still handsome.”

That makes Erik scoff. “Of course I was.”

“We also…” Charles doesn’t quite know how to say this, and isn’t sure that he ought to say it, but he does anyway. He can feel the color rise in his cheeks. “We were in love. Again. Or still, however you want to look at it.”

Erik begins to blush, too, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know how long we had been together in that future, but we were clearly together and had been for some years.” Charles shrugs. “It’s why I leave my window unlocked for you. Because I know that, someday in the future, everything between us will be all right.”

Erik looks a bit dumbfounded for a moment, then frustrated. This is not a conversation he’s prepared to have tonight.

“Charles, I’m not..” He sighs and rests his forehead in his hands. Charles dips into his head to see all the ways Erik could finish that sentence. _I’m not saying I don’t love you,_ begins one of Erik’s answers. “I’m not going to just give everything up because you say you saw this. I’m not going to drop everything and come live here with you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to – I’m a wanted fugitive, you know!”

“I do know,” says Charles, and he lets the subject drop. “So, what did you come here for?”

Erik looks a bit embarrassed, and Charles can quickly see why. He was only here to see Charles and spend the night with him because he missed him. No more, no less.

Charles smiles gently. “Go ahead and get into bed. I’m just going to brush my teeth.”

Fortunately, Erik is tired, and he is grateful for the invitation. The sense of relief as Erik takes off his shoes follows Charles into the bathroom. Erik is not going to stay for more than a night, Charles knows, but in the back of Erik’s mind, as he unties the ascot around his neck and climbs into Charles’ bed, the idea is there.


End file.
